As Lila was ready to celebrate her 17th birthday, she received an unexpected and creepy gift from her stepmother: a pink funerary urn. Like the type you keep ashes in? Yes, that’s the one. But that’s not all! Lila learns that her college fund was given to Monica to open her salon. What will Lila do?
Let me tell you, I’ve been sitting on this one for a few days, just trying to make sense of what went down.
I always thought my stepmom, Monica, was the worst, though not Disney villain evil. She was the kind of person who talks over you, forgets your birthday, and calls you “kiddo” when you’re practically an adult.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
But, what she pulled on my 17th birthday? It shattered whatever shaky truce we had.
At least, that’s what I thought. Turns out, things weren’t exactly what they seemed.
Here’s how it all went down.
My mom, Sarah, died when I was ten, and after that, it was just Dad and me. We were a solid team. The type of team that has pizza for dinner half the week, late-night movies, and this unspoken agreement that we’d always have each other’s backs.
Two boxes of pizza on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
Then came Monica, about three years ago.
At first, she wasn’t horrible; she was just… there. Like a stray cat that never leaves, so you have no choice but to adopt it. Monica moved into our house, took over the bathroom with her fifty bottles of face serums and creams, and slowly pushed her way into my dad’s world.
Monica had big dreams of opening a hair salon, which was fine. I wasn’t against people having dreams. I had my own dreams waiting for me, but she treated me like I was just this annoying piece of furniture that came with the house.
A woman’s vanity | Source: Midjourney
Honestly, I was counting down the days until I could escape to college.
Dad had promised me since middle school that there was a college fund waiting for me.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” he told me. “Your mom and I put together the fund when you were five. There’s more than enough, and every year on your birthday and Christmas, I add more.”
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, Dad,” I said. “I just want to study and make something of myself, like Mom said.”
“You only have to worry about your grades, Lila,” he said. “I’ll handle the rest.”
Naturally, I worked my butt off in school, knowing that in a few years, I’d be out of here.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
College was my golden ticket, and no one — not even Monica — would stand in my way.
At least, that’s what I thought.
On the morning of my 17th birthday, I came downstairs expecting the usual lukewarm effort. By lukewarm, I mean a sad card, some pancakes, and Monica forgetting my favorite syrup. Dad was at work, so it was just Mon and I.
A plate of pancakes and a card on a table | Source: Midjourney
She handed me a gift bag, which was already weird because Monica wasn’t exactly the thoughtful or sentimental type.
“Happy Birthday, kiddo,” she said, flashing one of her tight-lipped smiles.
I wasn’t expecting much, but I sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.
I reached inside the bag and pulled out… an urn.
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
A funerary urn.
You know, the kind that people store ashes in. Cold, heavy, and, well, pink. It was pink.
I just stared at it, my brain short-circuiting.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, holding the urn like it was cursed.
A pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney
Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, smug as ever.
“It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.
“Symbolic of what?”
Monica’s grin widened.
A smiling woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“It’s time to bury your dreams of college, kiddo. Your dad and I talked about this, and we decided to put the college fund to better use.”
“Better use?” I asked, a cold shiver running through me.
“Yep. We’re investing it in my hair salon. College is a gamble, Lila. A business? That’s something real, sweetie.”
A hair salon being renovated | Source: Midjourney
She sipped her coffee like she’d just said the most reasonable thing in the world.
I was frozen in place, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. Had they really taken my future, everything I’d worked for, and sunk it into Monica’s salon dream?
“How could you do this?” I whispered.
Monica just smiled, a little too pleased with herself.
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
“Life’s full of disappointments, kiddo. Better get used to it now,” she said.
Wow.
That was it. I was done. I ran upstairs, slamming the door behind me so hard that the walls shook.
I cried so hard it hurt. What else could I do? Everything I had been holding onto was gone, and the only person I thought I could count on, Dad, had let this happen.
An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
My mom wanted me to get out and make something of myself. And now? It was all over.
The next few days were a blur. I didn’t speak to Monica or my dad unless I absolutely had to. Every time I looked at that stupid urn sitting on my desk, my stomach twisted.
I couldn’t even bring myself to throw it out. It felt like some kind of morbid evidence. Like proof of the betrayal I didn’t see coming.
A pink funerary urn on a desk | Source: Midjourney
At school, my friends tried to cheer me up.
“Maybe she thought it was funny, Lila,” my friend Kira said. “Like, who really knows what Monica is thinking?”
“And anyway, there’s nothing stopping you from throwing it out! Just do it! Don’t overthink it,” Mel said.
Three teenage girls | Source: Midjourney
But still, I couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Monica was prancing around, acting like she was the queen of the house, while I sat there with no future.
Then, a few days later, something strange happened.
When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk. Not in an envelope, just folded, with my name written in Monica’s messy handwriting.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me. -M.
I almost laughed out loud. Trust her? Yeah, right.
But something about the note gnawed at me. Maybe it was the fact that I wanted to confront her one last time, tell her exactly what I thought of her.
Against my better judgment, I decided to go.
A note on a table | Source: Midjourney
When I got to the salon, the lights were off, and the front door was unlocked.
I hesitated for a second, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. But curiosity got the best of me.
I stepped inside, and there they were. Monica and my dad, standing side by side, both grinning widely.
“Surprise!” Monica shouted, throwing her arms up like this was the happiest moment of her life.
The entrance to a salon | Source: Midjourney
I just stared at them, completely lost.
“What is this?”
Monica stepped aside, and that’s when I saw it — a shiny, brand-new sign mounted on the wall.
Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah
I blinked, feeling like the room was tilting on its axis.
A hair salon | Source: Midjourney
“What… what is this?”
Monica smiled, but it wasn’t her usual smug grin. This one was softer, almost real.
“We didn’t use your college fund, kiddo. It’s all still there. The salon? It’s not just for me. It’s for you, too. For other kids like you, too.”
I couldn’t breathe.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“But then, why would you make me think otherwise?” I asked.
Monica winced, putting her hand on her head.
“Yeah, so, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it’d be motivational, like, bury the past and embrace the future. You know? But it turns out that it was just creepy.”
A woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her, speechless.
My dad stepped forward, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“We’ve been planning this for months, Lila,” he said. “Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This salon is going to fund scholarships. For you and for others in her name.”
“The salon has been my dream, Lila,” Monica said. “But it was never going to come at your expense. This way, a great portion of all our profits in the future will go to the fund.”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t know what to say.
Or what to think.
Just that I felt a warm haze take over me.
Monica laughed softly.
“I’m not a monster, darling,” she said. “I just didn’t want you to think that I was trying to take over your mom’s role.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
For the first time in a long time, I smiled.
It wasn’t perfect, but things with Monica probably never would be. But, at that moment, standing in the middle of a salon named for my mom’s dream, I realized that she wasn’t trying to ruin my life.
She was trying to build something bigger than any of us.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
And somehow, against all odds, it felt like a new beginning.
And yeah, I kept the urn. But I planted white peace lilies in it, thinking it would be symbolic after all. And who knows, maybe I’ll take the urn to college.
What would you have done?
Peace lilies planted into a pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Transferred $24K to My Daughter for Her College Tuition, Only to Discover She Never Enrolled — What She Spent It On Made Me Pale
Caroline had been saving for her daughter’s college fund since Angela was born. But after a classmate of Angela’s reveals that Angela is not actually enrolled in college, Caroline must uncover what her daughter is doing and what she used the money for.
Children are always going to break your heart. This was something that I learned the hard way after trusting my daughter, Angela, completely.
A close-up of a smiling girl | Source: Midjourney
Since Angela was born, I have been saving for college. I needed to know that irrespective of what life threw my way, I would be able to educate my child.
“I think you can wait until she’s a little older,” my husband, Holden, said. “We can do it together.”
“You can add to her college fund later,” I said, looking at my baby girl. “But I’m going to start from next month. I wasn’t able to study, Holden. And it was because we didn’t have the opportunity to do so. Angela is going to get that opportunity.”
A smiling baby girl | Source: Midjourney
“Okay, Caroline,” my husband said. “You start it now, and I’ll add to it in a year. The house will be paid off, and I’ll be able to put that money into the fund.”
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
I Helped Plan My SIL’s Wedding, Baked the Cake, Paid for the Catering – Then Found Out on the Wedding Day I Wasn’t Invited
Dahlia pours her heart into planning her brother’s wedding. From designing the invitation to booking vendors to even baking the perfect cake. But on the big day, she discovers a brutal betrayal: she’s not invited. As secrets unravel and loyalties are tested, Dahlia must decide if some betrayals deserve forgiveness… or just a slice of revenge.
I’ve never been the kind of person to hold a grudge.
But I can say, without hesitation, that I will never forgive Claire for what she did to me.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
When my brother, Liam, got engaged, I was happy for him. Sure, Claire wasn’t my favorite person in the world. She had an edge to her, a way of making every conversation feel like a subtle competition.
But she seemed to love my brother.
And Liam? He was smitten.
A man holding a ring box | Source: Midjourney
So, when Claire begged me to help plan the wedding, I agreed. Not for her. But for Liam.
I helped design the invitations. I booked vendors. I coordinated the venue. And I even paid for catering and the wedding cake.
I spent weeks pouring my heart into their wedding. And I had no idea what Claire was planning behind my back.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I tapped my pen against the edge of my desk, staring down at the sketches in front of me. Flour-dusted pages filled with delicate designs, tiers of smooth fondant, cascading sugar flowers, and intricate piping details.
The wedding cake had to be perfect.
I flipped through ideas, frowning.
Classic vanilla? Too boring.
Red velvet? Claire hated it.
A display of wedding cakes | Source: Midjourney
My pencil hovered over the page before I scribbled down the only choice that felt right.
Chocolate-peanut butter cake.
My lip twitched into a small smile. It was Liam’s favorite.
I could still picture us as kids, sitting on the kitchen floor, legs crossed as we licked chocolate frosting off the beaters. Our mom would make chocolate-peanut butter cupcakes every time Liam had a big event.
Cupcakes on a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney
Birthdays, soccer games, even the time he got a participation trophy in third grade. He used to sneak into the kitchen and swipe extra spoonfuls of peanut butter frosting straight from the bowl.
“Best flavor in the world,” he’d say, licking it off his fingers.
A boy holding a cupcake | Source: Midjourney
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. Claire would probably want something fancy and pretentious. Some overpriced, trendy cake with sugared roses or some fancy French technique she found online.
But if I was pouring my heart into this cake, I wanted Liam to taste something familiar.
Something that felt like home.
A fancy wedding cake | Source: Midjourney
I pressed my pen into the paper, writing the final flavor choice in ink.
And then I exhaled, stretching my fingers. My fingers still ached from this morning’s baking.
A reminder of how far I’d come. A reminder of how much it had cost me.
A woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
My bakery was my dream. My entire world. And for a while, I thought my marriage had been, too.
I swallowed hard, my eyes flicking to the stack of unopened letters on the corner of my desk. Useless apologies from my ex-husband, the divorce lawyer’s final bills, and, of course, inventory of all my stock.
I had loved my husband. Deeply. And for a while, I thought he had loved me, too.
The exterior of a bakery | Source: Midjourney
But in the end, he had only loved what I built. The successful business. The prestige of being married to a pastry chef whose cakes and pastries were featured in magazines.
Not me.
And the day I finally realized that? It broke me. And I felt I had no choice but to leave him. Either that or be his private bank.
I squeezed my eyes shut, inhaling deeply.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Not now, Dahlia. This is about Liam.
I squared my shoulders and picked up my pen again.
Focus.
Because no matter what, Liam deserved a perfect wedding cake. Even if I didn’t believe in happy endings anymore.
A woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
The morning of the wedding, I stood in the venue’s kitchen, carefully piping the final details onto the cake.
Guests were arriving, laughter spilling in from the grand hall. My heart swelled, knowing that I had helped bring this entire event together.
Then, my mom stormed in, her face like thunder.
“Sweetheart…” she hesitated, her hands gripping the kitchen counter. “You’re not on the guest list.”
An upset woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
I let out a small laugh.
“What? That’s ridiculous. I’m literally holding their wedding cake.”
Mom’s face remained serious.
“Claire’s mom is checking the guest list. She says you’re not invited. And she won’t let you in.”
An upset woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
My stomach dropped.
I set the piping bag down, my hands suddenly unsteady.
“Did she say why? What do you mean?”
Mom clenched her jaw.
“She refuses to explain.”
A person holding a piping bag | Source: Midjourney
A ringing noise filled my ears. I had spent months helping Claire plan this wedding. Months. And she didn’t even have the decency to tell me herself?
Mom was seething. Without another word, she stormed out to find Liam.
As for me?
I wiped my hands clean, pulled off my apron, and walked out of the side exit.
Broken.
The rear view of a woman | Source: Midjourney
Mom caught Liam just before the ceremony. He was adjusting his tie, smiling, completely unaware of what was happening.
“Liam,” she snapped. “Do you know that Claire didn’t invite your sister?”
Liam froze. His smile vanished.
An upset woman standing in a wedding venue | Source: Midjourney
“Wait. What? Why?”
“She won’t say. But she’s making sure Dahlia isn’t allowed inside. How can you allow that? She’s your sister!”
Liam’s face darkened. Without hesitation, he turned on his heel and marched straight to Claire.
A side-view of a groom | Source: Midjourney
Claire stood with her bridesmaids, basking in their compliments and practically glowing in her lace-covered gown.
She barely even looked up when Liam approached.
“Claire,” Liam said, his voice hard. “Did you seriously not invite my sister?”
A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney
Claire sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Ugh, babe. Not now,” she said. “Can we not do this on our wedding day?”
Liam didn’t move at all.
“Answer me.”
She huffed, clearly annoyed.
“Look, she helped us. So what? That was her gift to us. And honestly, let’s face it, it’s her job, too.”
A pensive groom | Source: Midjourney
Liam stared at her in disbelief.
“She paid for the food, Claire. She spent days baking the cake! And you just… what? Pretended she didn’t exist?”
Claire let out a dramatic sigh.
“Fine. You wanna know the reason? I didn’t want divorced people at our wedding. It’s bad energy, especially for the bride! I don’t want that kind of luck in our marriage! I didn’t invite a lot of my friends and cousins.”
A close up of a bride | Source: Midjourney
Liam’s jaw clenched.
“So you excluded my sister because she got a divorce?”
Claire shrugged.
“I mean… come on. It’s not my fault she couldn’t make it work. Why bring that kind of vibe to our day? And don’t be mad at me for just trying to stay happy? I’m superstitious, Liam! How do you not know this!?”
Liam fisted his hands at his sides, his entire body rigid with anger.
An upset groom | Source: Midjourney
“Marriages don’t fail because of ‘bad vibes,’ Claire. They fail because of selfish, cruel behavior. Like this!”
Claire’s smug expression faltered.
“Liam, don’t be dramatic. You’re seriously making a scene over this? You’re lucky I even let her help. I did her a favor.”
Liam stared at her for a long, cold moment.
A close up of a groom | Source: Midjourney
“You know what? You’re right,” he said calmly. “I don’t want bad energy at my wedding either.”
Claire frowned.
“Oh, so you understand what I mean?” she asked.
“No, I don’t,” he said. “Actually, I’m done. Just completely done.”
Liam wasn’t listening anymore. He turned on his heel and walked straight to the catering table.
Gasps filled the room as Liam grabbed the cake, but no one dared to stop him.
A wedding cake | Source: Midjourney
I was already home, curled up on the couch in stunned silence, when the doorbell rang.
I opened it to find Liam standing there, still in his suit, holding the wedding cake. For a second, neither of us spoke. His face was a mix of exhaustion and something heavier.
“I’m sorry you wasted your time and money on that wedding,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll make her compensate you. But more than that…”
A woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney
My brother exhaled, shaking his head.
“Thank you. Because without you, I might never have seen Claire for who she really is.”
My throat tightened.
Liam had always been my big brother. The one who looked out for me. And today, when it really mattered… he chose me.
A man standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
I stepped aside, and he walked in, setting the cake down on my coffee table.
For a long moment, we just stared at it.
Then Liam let out a breathless laugh.
“You know, I haven’t eaten all day.”
I grabbed two forks.
“Then let’s fix that.”
An open cutlery drawer | Source: Midjourney
We sat on the floor, still in formal clothes, digging straight into the wedding cake like a couple of sugar-starved kids.
Liam took one bite, then froze. His eyes flicked to mine, a soft, almost broken sound escaping his throat.
“Chocolate-peanut butter,” he murmured.
“Yeah,” I swallowed thickly.
He stared at his fork, shaking his head.
A slice of cake | Source: Midjourney
“You made this for me,” he said.
It wasn’t a question. Just a quiet realization.
“Of course, I did, Liam.”
Liam pressed his lips together, nodding slowly. He took another bite, chewing carefully, like he was tasting more than just cake. Like he was remembering home.
A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
After a moment, he cleared his throat.
“You know… if this was the wedding cake, I guess that means I got the best part of today.”
I blinked. He exhaled.
“I walked away from someone who didn’t respect me. From a future that would have been miserable.”
He looked at me then, his voice quiet but sure.
“But I still have you.”
“Always,” I whispered.
A woman sitting on the floor | Source: Midjourney
I was in my office, running my fingers over the edge of a new cake design, when I heard a soft knock on the door.
For a second, I thought I imagined it.
Then, it came again. Tentative. Hesitant.
I exhaled, already tired.
A woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
“Come in,” I called.
The door creaked open, and there she was.
Claire.
She looked… different. Not polished. Not smug. Just pale, uneasy, and carrying the kind of sadness that weighed down her shoulders.
I didn’t stand. I didn’t offer her a seat.
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A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
I just folded my arms and waited.
“Hey.”
“You lost?” I raised an eyebrow.
She flinched but nodded, like she deserved that.
“No. I… I wanted to see you.”
I tilted my head, studying her.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“I can’t imagine why.”
Claire swallowed, staring down at her hands.
“Liam won’t talk to me. Won’t see me… He…” Her voice caught, and for a split second, I saw genuine regret in her eyes.
But it didn’t move me.
She took a breath, trying again.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“I messed up. I…” She exhaled sharply. “I was awful to you, Dahlia. I was selfish and cruel, and I…”
Her fingers twisted together.
“I never meant for things to go this way.”
I laughed, short and humorless.
“Really? Because it felt intentional.”
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
Claire winced.
“I thought…” she hesitated. “I thought I could control everything. That if I just pushed hard enough, I’d get my perfect day. And instead? I ruined everything.”
I didn’t say a word.
She glanced at me then, eyes uncertain.
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I wanted to…”
“Stop,” my voice was flat. “You don’t get to want anything from me, Claire.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
She swallowed hard.
I stood.
“You used me. Lied to me. Now, get out of my bakery.”
She hesitated. Then nodded once and turned toward the door.
She paused, her hand on the handle.
“I really am sorry.”
I didn’t answer. And a moment later, she was gone.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Marianne’s stepsisters have been stealing from her for months. From money to respect to her sense of security in her own home. Her mother won’t listen. Her stepfather won’t believe her. But Marianne refuses to stay powerless. With one ruthless plan, she turns the tables… and ensures that they never take from her again.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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